


Intoxicated

by RumbleFish14



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Closeted Character, Drinking to Cope, Drugs, Early Days, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, Fluff, Fuckbuddies, Gallavich, Idiots in Love, M/M, No Strings Attached, One Shot, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:41:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24210772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RumbleFish14/pseuds/RumbleFish14
Summary: Mickey only wants Ian when he's drunk, so he has something to blame for his actions
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 48
Kudos: 188





	Intoxicated

Intoxicated  
(One shot)

Mickey only wants Ian when he's drunk…

Okay, that's a lie. 

Mickey will only admit he wants Ian after he's had a six pack and more than four joints. That way he can blame whatever happens on him being drunk, or baked. 

Especially when he's the one who seeks Ian out. Stumbling all over the South side looking for him, looking for some kind of release. Looking for shit he couldn't even say because he didn't know what it was. 

Ian had it. Ian was it. Ian touched his body in ways he didn't care to admit, in ways that short circuited his brain, in ways that made his entire body flush red with need, with arousal. 

Without some sort of help, Mickey couldn't bring himself to approach Ian about it, or anything else. Not even to talk. The right words refused to come out, leaving him calling Ian a fag, or his excessive use of fuck-head and bitch. 

Only when he was drunk...that's the only way it worked. 

And it wasn't like Ian didn't want him. He did, big time. And not for just a fuck, Ian Gallagher wanted him all the time; in every way. Mickey just didn't know how it could work. 

Admitting you're gay is one thing, admitting it to yourself is even harder, but there was no way that could be his life when you had someone like Terry for a dad. Anything less than a fucking a Russian whore was unacceptable. 

Mickey was fucked. His life was fucked. But he wanted that redhead. 

The first time it happened, Mickey chalked it up to a hangover from the welcome home party for Terry the night before. He woke up with a crowbar in his back and a seriously pissed off ginger and somehow ended up on all fours, making sure the headboard didn't smack against the wall too rapidly and give them away. 

After that, Mickey used any excuse to get fucked up just so he could go see Ian. Pretty much showing up with that look in his eyes, one that only Ian seemed to be able to read, and they ended up locked together for the next hour or so. 

The next time was now. Mickey had just left a party at the Milkovich house, one he didn't even want to be at. The only reason he bothered is because Mandy had to play host to Terry's drunk friends and she didn't want to be alone. 

So he stayed until Terry kicked them all out and passed out on the floor in the kitchen. Mickey blew it off, but he saw her grateful look from him being there. She wasn't as jumpy as she usually was, she felt safe, at least a little more than if he hadn't stayed. 

The only upside to staying was he got top notch weed and booze, both of which he had way too much of. He was currently stumbling around town, lucid enough not to get hit by a passing car but fucked up enough to try and pick a fight with anyone and everyone who looked at him wrong.

Eventually; without getting run over or arrested for public intoxication, Mickey found himself at the store Ian worked at. Even around midnight, he could see Ian sitting behind the counter flipping through some magazine. 

Fuck. Mickey couldn't believe how good he looked. Even through the haze of too much smoke, Ian looked as gorgeous as he always did. Especially that red hair. 

He never expected to be attracted to a 16 year old ginger, but he was. He really fucking was. It wasn't even his dick size; although he enjoyed that immensely. There was just something about that red head that he wanted. 

Now all he had to do was go in, demand Ian's attention and within seconds, he'd lock the door, flip the sign and lead him into the back by a tight grip on the end of his scarf. 

With one last deep inhale of his joint, Mickey flicked it into the snowy sidewalk, gave his groin a subtle rub and power-walked as fast as possible into the store. 

The ding gave him away, making Ian give an annoyed glance to the door. One that vanished instantly upon seeing him. Mickey tried not to read so much into that and focused on his endgame. 

Green eyes widened as Ian stood and Mickey's eyes instantly moved down that addictive body, to his groin. When he glanced back up, Ian was already grinning. His eyes dark, hooded with that same look.

"Didn't expect you this late."

Small talk, Ian's idea of 'breaking the ice.' Mickey just rolled his eyes in that signature way of his. "Yeah, whatever. Was in the neighborhood and needed some pringles."

Ian grinned, such a cocky, but bashful look if he ever saw one. "I think we might have some in the back."

Fighting to hold back his victorious grin was nearly impossible. The corners of his mouth twitching in the need to show Ian just how happy he was he said that. 

He couldn't. He didn't.

"Let me just flip the sign and I'll show you."

Mickey refused to watch as Ian moved around the counter towards the door. Even drunk, even wanting to watch his legs eat up the distance to the door, or how the small of Ian's back would show when he reached up to pull down the sign, he just didn't. 

"Hurry the fuck up. I ain't got all night here." Mickey said instead, going for disinterested but coming off more like the asshole people knew he was. 

As soon as the door was locked, Ian walked right past him. Mickey's eyes betrayed him and moved to his ass, hugged tight in his jeans. He shook it off, but ended up stumbling instead as the room began to spin under him.

"You comin?"

"Yeah," Mickey replied as he eyed the rows of booze behind the refrigerator doors. He grabbed the first bottle he found and chugged it as he advanced on the door. "I'm comin."

Ian eyed the half empty bottle. "You gonna pay for that?"

With a loud burp, Mickey shoved Ian into the freezer with a firm push to his chest. "Nope, now gimme those pringles and no one gets hurt."

With a cocky smile, Ian's hands dropped down to his jeans. "Shut the door."

Mickey never looked away from Ian's frantic hands until he was rubbing himself through his boxers. He pretended it didn't make his face flame, or make his ass ache. He simply reached back and slammed the door closed and wondered if the freezer was the same temperature as the feeling inside his body.

Although inside his chest felt a little colder.

**

This time, he was high. No booze, not for lack of trying. Terry managed to finish every drop in the house, even the bottle stashed in his room, leaving him nothing but the weed he bummed off Iggy this morning. 

Mickey climbed up the half broken ladder against the back of the house. The roof was in worse condition than the actual house, but Terry wasn't smart enough to look for him there. 

Within an hour, the entire bag of weed was gone. He was zoning, hazy, feeling fucking amazing. The sun slipped into the moon, and he hadn't even realized it. 

No jacket, no scarf, just in jeans and a ratty tank top as it began to snow and he didn't even feel it. The only thing he felt was the pulsing of his cock, tightly smashed between his boxers and the zipper of his jeans, and the ache that he didn't feel in his ass. 

Ian. He needed Ian. 

But how? Ian wasn't set to work tonight. Yes….he memorized the damn schedule; for booty calls. Pathetic, but true and no one had to know. He couldn't just show up at the Gallagher house when everyone knew he hated them. That left him with very little wiggle room.

After thinking about possible ways to 'accidentally' bump into Ian, or bump Ian's cock into him, it was half an hour later and he decided to just give up and try again another day. 

The house was quiet when he climbed back down the ladder, missing the last step and ended up on his ass in the snow. He contemplated staying there, maybe feel sorry for himself for a minute, until the unmistakable sound of Ian's voice made it to his ears.

Mickey scrambled up, climbed back into his broken window and tripped his way to the door. He was breathing quickly, making it impossible to hear anything beyond the door. 

"Fuck." Mickey cursed, tried to calm down and cracked the door open just a little. 

Terry was no longer on the couch and if Ian was there with Mandy, that meant he was likely gone for the night. That made this less dangerous than he originally thought, which was bad in a way. Now nothing would stop him from trying to get Ian on him. 

"Where's Terry?" Ian asked.

Mickey smiled, Ian was just as afraid as he was. 

"Gone for the night hopefully. He was passed out after Mickey left earlier." Mandy replied.

He could hear the clinking of bottles, which meant Ian had likely lifted some on his way over from the store. His boss, or his bosses husband was a leach, a forty year old married dad who tried to get at Ian any chance he could. 

"Uh, is he here?"

"I just told you red. Terry isn't here."

"No, I meant Mickey."

This time he didn't smile. It was nice to think that Ian was thinking about him, but with Mandy around it would be nearly impossible for anything more than eye fucking each other across the room. Or Ian doing it while he pretended he hated it. 

"Oh, I don't know. Check his room."

His eyes widened as Ian let out a soft 'okay' and bolted away from the door, leaving it cracked. He bounced on the bed, hurried to kick off his wet jeans and boots before haphazardly tossing a blanket over his hips 

The footsteps got closer.

One last touch, Mickey slipped on a pair of headphones, no music and pretended he hadn't been listening at the door. That would mean he cared...and he didn't. Not that Ian or Mandy knew. 

The light knock came first, forcing goosebumps up his arms. But he didn't respond, because he was supposed to be listening to music...with the lights off? Okay, maybe he didn't think that through. 

A few seconds later the squeak of the door let him know Ian opened it and stepped inside. The steps were light, cautious, probably remembering the fight they had last time Ian woke him up. And if the harsh panting was anything to go by, Ian was remembering what happened after that fight as well. 

"Mick, you awake?"

Mickey wanted to reply, but didn't. He did wiggle on the bed just enough for it to creak, letting Ian know he was there. Would Ian try and touch him? If he did, was he supposed to let it happen so easily?

He just didn't know.

"Mickey?" Ian said again, reaching out in the dark. 

When Ian's hand landed on his bare thigh, just inches from the end of his boxers, Mickey let a little groan escape. Ian's inhale was sharp and unexpected, but fuck if it wasn't sexy.

Ian's hand didn't fall away after that, it moved up, skimming up one thigh until Mickey couldn't breathe. Until he couldn't hold still or keep quiet. One touch shouldn't feel so good, dragging across his skin, teasing him.

"I know you're awake." Ian spoke again, sounding loud in the dark. "I only have a minute before she comes in."

A minute was not long enough. Panic was instant, forcing him to toss away the headphones. Now he was panting, matching Ian's. He reached out, balled his fist in Ian's shirt and pulled him down the same time he split his legs.

"Oh, fuck." Ian moaned.

Mickey could feel how hard he was, even through his rough jeans. It forced his hips to move, circling for another feel. They'd never done this before, face to face, too intimate for him, but now...with Ian's words being spoken nearly against his lips, their heads pushed together and the feel of Ian's strong thighs under his, he wanted it. 

"Shut the fuck up or she'll hear you." Mickey snapped, pushing them that much closer, almost close enough to rest their heads together. "Fuck."

"I can't right now," Ian said and rolled his entire body between Mickey's legs. "Maybe I can come back."

Gritting his teeth wasn't enough to stop another groan from spilling out. Which Ian returned with another groan. Egging each other on, keeping it flowing between them. 

"Don't get used to this." Mickey growled, but his actions spoke against him. His legs spread wider, his feet hooking around Ian's calves. "Face to face ain't ever gonna happen."

"Fine," Ian said with a little growl. "I'd rather have your ass on my lap anyway."

So fucking cocky. So arrogant. So fucking sexy. 

"Come back or don't, I don't give a shit." Mickey hissed, hating himself for saying it. Just to be believable, he shoved at Ian's chest. "Get off."

Ian cursed, but slid his hands down to grip his thighs and Mickey almost pulled him back.

"Come find me when you want some." Ian sneered and jerked away, stomping to the door. 

Mickey flopped against the bed, one stroke away from busting, panting uncontrollably and he wanted nothing more than to drag Ian back by that red hair and demand that dick. 

"Prick." He mumbled, talking about himself instead of Ian. 

Instead of jerking off like he wanted to, Mickey pulled the blanket over his body and sat in the dark until he fell asleep.

It was the weed. It had to be.

(Two hours later)

Mickey was woken up by that same squeak of his door. Only this time it slammed shut and the lock was clicked into place.

His body reacted quickly, hardening in seconds because he knew something was happening. But smoke still surrounded his brain and he was having a hard time working out the details. 

"Get the fuck out." He mumbled into the dark and shut his eyes, he couldn't see anything anyway. 

"Fine."

Hearing Ian's voice, Mickey bolted up, his body tingling in that special way, just for Ian. He kicked off the blankets and pushed the gun under his pillow until it hit the wall, safely out of the way. 

"Don't be a bitch," Mickey mumbled and turned over onto his knees, his ass waiving around behind him...thank fuck neither of them could see it. "Just hurry up."

Clothes hit the ground within seconds of his demand, making his body react on its own, spreading his knees wide, which lowered the level of his body perfectly. 

Mickey might have exhaled a deep breath of air...that could have been a moan, only neither of them would ever mention it, when Ian climbed on the bed behind him and gripped both hips. 

"You gonna let me open you up this time, or do you want to do it?"

The tone was mildly annoyed, which Mickey understood. He nearly bit Ian's head off when he tried to stretch him, opting to quickly do it himself. Badly, he might add. 

Only this time, he was half asleep and still too stoned and grabbed the bottle of lube wedged against the wall and tossed it back to him. 

"Don't fuck around." Mickey grumbled as the cap was flipped open. He hung his head between his arms, eyes closed even with the light off. 

"I never do."

"Yes, you do. You do all that extra touching shit." Mickey bit the bed soon after when wet fingers circled him slowly, doing exactly what he accused Ian of. 

"Like you don't like it."

Another moan slipped out when one finger pushed inside, he bit the pillow to keep it muffled but from Ian's light chuckle, he knew he heard it. 

It would be so easy to just give in. Just once, he didn't want to be a dick. He didn't want to tell Ian how to touch him and for how long. He wanted it all. All the touches, all the little things Ian did that he bitched about. 

He wanted to touch and be touched. He wanted all of Ian's sounds and the ones he coaxed from him. Fuck, he wanted to participate. 

"Come on," Mickey said, shifting his body from side to side until the head of Ian's cock brushed against him. "Fuck."

By the time Ian moved up and he could feel each time his cock brushed against him, he knew that sooner or later he wouldn't be able to keep quiet like that. He'd give in to it all, which scared the shit out of him. 

**

This time was a little different. But that's what he tells himself every time this shit with Ian happens. But it's all the same. 

They ended up at a party together. One being held by a friend of a friend, that neither of them were friends with. They didn't exactly run in the same social circles.

Ian was in high school. He hung around with kids just like him. Girls mostly, because the entire world knew Ian liked cock, and were okay with it. 

Mickey ran with a different set of people. Mostly ones with drugs and guns, with Terry. No room for cock of any kind, just the occasional slutty chick when Terry wouldn't leave him alone until it happened. 

The only person they had in common was Mandy. And she managed to rope them both into coming to the stupid ass party. Mickey came because she gave him those sad puppy eyes. Ian came because he was her best friend. 

Only they hadn't known she recruited both of them until they saw each other. Since then, their eyes stayed linked. Never wandering for more than a moment or two before they returned. 

Mickey instantly found the booze. Drinking beer after beer, one right after another, then shots when they'd been offered. He needed them when Ian decided he wanted to talk to some random guy that showed up. 

Looking like a damn model, around Ian's age and very much out of the closet, unlike him. Ian took a liking to him instantly, breaking their connection to talk to him. Flirty glances, one too many smiles, the occasional 'accidental' touch.

It was fucking bullshit. 

It took twice as long to get smashed off shitty, watered down beer. But he kept it going until he started to sway on his feet. When that burning inside his body got to be so hot, he drank to keep the fire down. 

He was jealous. 

Mickey wasn't sure if Ian was doing it on purpose or not. Maybe he was fed up with the way he'd been treating him and their hidden situation. Which he could understand. That didn't mean he had to like it, or watch it. 

"Fuck this." Mickey barked as he chugged the remaining beer in the bottle and stormed through the crowd to find Mandy. 

"You okay?" She asked, stepping away from her friend. 

"The fuck does that mean?" He barked. "Of course I'm fine. Leaving this gay ass party though. Bunch of little kids."

Mandy rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll get a ride home with Ian."

She stomped off without another word, leaving him the asshole once again. Great, like he wasn't a big enough one to Ian, now he had to be one towards her too. 

Mickey pinched the bridge of his nose. "Shit."

Without looking for Ian again, or saying sorry to Mandy, Mickey made his way through the crowd. By the time he reached the door, the guy Ian had been flirting with was now leaving. Alone. 

Hope sparked inside him. Enough to make him scan the crowd. But no sign of Ian. Unlike him, Ian wouldn't just bail on Mandy. So he had to be there somewhere. 

Red hair. He just needed to look for red hair. 

As he was looking, some skull crushingly loud song came on and everyone started to move. Hopping up in the air, hands raised, jumping like idiots. He couldn't spot red hair even if he was eight feet tall. 

They bumped into him so hard that he tripped and went face first in a bedroom door. He barely had time to brace himself for impact when the door was thrown open and he was being yanked inside by the front of his jeans.

"What the fuck!?" Mickey barked as the door slammed shut and he was pushed against it.

"Relax."

His body both calmed and amplified at Ian's voice. Calm, knowing he wasn't about to bust some ass for someone else touching him. But hyped up because Ian pushed him into a room...a private room. 

All sorts of things flashed across his mind. Fearing them as much as he needed them. 

Mickey shoved Ian back the second he remembered that other guy. "The fuck you want, hmm? Don't got Abercrombie waiting anymore?"

Ian's smile was radiant because that fucker knew he was jealous. He just spilled his guts without a single prompt. 

"Why you pullin me in here?" He barked again when Ian only kept smiling. "Don't have time for games."

"Only the ones you play." 

Ian advanced on him, both hands on his hips, his head bent down to push their foreheads together. Mickey had to stop and remember how to breathe, to tell himself this is what he wanted. That he didn't have to push him away. 

This time, instead of shoving him again, Mickey pushed against his head, forcing Ian to do the same, and let Ian touch him. 

"What game are we playin now, hmm?" Mickey asked, sounding cocky instead of mean, making Ian's eyes widen. "Think you get some ass after that shit?"

Ian whined a little, his hands sliding around to Mickey's ass, squeezing. "I just did it to see what you'd do, to know if you were watching."

"I was." Mickey replied, his voice deeper now with Ian's hands on his ass. "You think I'd get jealous, walk over and tell him to fuck off?"

"I was hoping you would." Ian tilted his head a little, eyes focused on Mickey's neck. "I think you are jealous. That's why you were leaving?"

"That's bullshit." Mickey denied sternly, finally removing Ian's hands from his ass, forcing them to wobble. 

"Really? Then why did you drink half the booze here after?" 

Mickey cursed, maybe Ian had been watching him after all. Means he saw a lot more from him then he ever meant him to. 

"I drink when I want, not because you're trying to fuck the first guy who crawls up on you." Mickey watched Ian's face fall. But he was getting too close. "Now you want me to just bend the fuck over?"

Ian sighed, stepping back. "Wishful thinking that maybe you wanted me tonight too."

Fuck. He did want it, so fucking bad he wanted it. 

"I do want it." Mickey said bluntly, but Ian looked surprised all the same. "Not here. Not the time or the place."

Ian moved for the door. "You know where to find me when it is."

But Mickey didn't move. He kept his back to the door and reached back to lock it, forcing Ian to stop and really look at him.

"Can't fuck here, but there are other things." Mickey tugged at his belt until it parted, then popped the button on his jeans.

Ian moved back to stand in front of him, eyes down as he watched. Mickey could see Ian's jaw clench, him licking his lips, wanting it. 

"Unless of course you don't want it." Mickey challenged, stopping just before he pulled his cock out.

Ian fell to his knees, pulling at Mickey's jeans until they fell around his ankles. "I want it, fuck. I want it."

They didn't do this often, less often than they fucked, but the few times it had happened, it was always Ian doing it to him, never once did he return the favor. 

Ian was damn good at it, just like he was at fucking. It was like he had something in his DNA that just made him a fucking king at sex of any kind. 

"Good, I do too." Mickey watched the top of Ian's head as he pulled his boxers down and gave himself a stroke or two. "Don't fuck it up."

Ian gripped him, looked up and grinned. "I never fuck it up."

He couldn't wait another second longer to thread his fingers into Ian's hair. To feel it sliding between them, to get a smell of whatever shampoo he used that made his stomach tighten. 

Mickey was a little obsessed with Ian's hair. 

"Open your mouth." Mickey instructed bluntly and pulled Ian closer until his cock pushed into his chin. 

Ian's only response was a low, needy groan as his mouth opened. Mickey guided his cock inside, biting the side of his cheek so he didn't start thanking God for whoever made Ian's mouth feel so damn good. 

"Fuck, that's it." Mickey moaned when Ian closed his mouth around him, unable to help it. 

Ian moaned as well, gripping his thighs as that head of red hair started to bob up and down at the perfect speed. Mickey relaxed against the door, unable to close his eyes, he had to watch. 

Those loud slurping sounds increased the faster he moved. Green eyes closed for a few moments, like he needed to savor the moment, the taste, then they'd look up at him and hold it. 

Mickey watched to squirm away from that look, but that meant stopping and he just couldn't. It felt way too fucking good.

The moment Ian started to moan, Mickey needed to regain control. Ian had far too much power over him. 

"I'm gonna fuck your mouth." Mickey didn't ask and Ian didn't say no. "Watch your teeth."

It didn't feel as good as Ian sucking him off at his own speed, but it gave him control. Ian was eagerly letting him do it, moaning for more, shifting on his knees until it became too much that Ian opened his jeans and started stroking himself. 

"Shiiitt." Mickey groaned as Ian started to whimper around him. Moving his arm fast, thrusting into his fist. "Gettin off on sucking dick?"

Ian nodded as much as possible as he moaned. 

"God, that's fucking gay." Mickey laughed for a second until it turned into a deep groan. "Got a dick in your mouth and you're fucking moaning."

Green eyes turned angry, but he never moved away. Mickey felt bad for saying it, just like he did with everything else he said...but he just couldn't flip that switch for very long and be a normal guy. 

"So fucking close." Mickey groaned, gripping his hair tighter. He didn't have to ask if Ian was close, his entire body was shaking. "Fuck, fuck."

Ian came as he swallowed him down. Mickey focused on the greedy pull of Ian's throat, how watery his eyes were and how fast his hand moved as he came all over the carpet. Deep moans around his cock turned into little whimpers, forcing his cock to pulse in response. 

"Goddamn," Mickey pulled out with a hiss and pulled his clothes up as Ian slowly tugged his back into place, looking as dazed as he felt.

"Fuck." Ian groaned, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm. 

Seeing Ian wrecked like that, both from giving great head, to coming hard enough to frazzle himself, was downright sexy. Mickey had never been so attracted to that fucked out look until he saw it on Ian. 

"Gettin off by having a cock in your mouth…" Mickey said again, this time not a question but a fact, he shook his head. "Fucking gay."

Ian's smile slipped. "Not as gay as having a cock in your ass...oh wait, you get off on that, don't you?"

Mickey clenched his teeth, knowing he would have to react violently to keep in his true Milkovich character. 

"Now that's fuckin gay." Ian stood, jaw set in a hard line. 

Before he could tell himself not to, he pulled back his fist and popped Ian in the mouth hard enough to force his head back. Pain was instant, as was his regret when blood trickled from the corner of Ian's mouth. 

Mickey expected to get hit back, that maybe they'd fist fight like they used to, but Ian only smiled. Which was way worse for some reason. 

"Guess some things never change, huh Milkovich?" Ian wiped the blood away. "I thought maybe being with me would soften you up a little. I was wrong."

An apology was on the tip of his tongue. So much so that his mouth opened and his chest expanded with air, prepared to say sorry. Sorry for it all. Sorry for who he was, sorry for how he was. Just so fucking sorry. 

But all that came out was a soft 'Ian', leaving him hanging. 

"Maybe you need to figure out what you want." Ian fixed his clothes, making sure everything was in place. "I'm not gonna keep doin this if every other word out of your mouth is gay, or fag. Considering you're both, just like me."

When Ian shoved him out of the way, panic seized his chest yet again, so much that he grabbed Ian's arm, keeping him from leaving. 

Ian stopped, glancing at his hand, then into his eyes.

Would Ian tell everyone? Would he tell Mandy? Or the rest of the Gallagher's? Fuck, what if he told Terry?!

It must have registered on his face because Ian's eyes drained of some of their irritation. "Don't worry, I'd never out someone."

For some reason, even with their current fight, Mickey believed him. He let Ian go, both from his grip and out of the room. Leaving him alone. Always alone. 

Mickey paced the doorway, running his hands into his hair. When it didn't help, the urge to scream was overwhelming. Instead, he lightly slapped the side of his cheek, snapping himself out of it, then left as soon as possible. 

He didn't look for Ian, he didn't talk to Mandy, he didn't even grab a drink on the way out. It did little to numb the feelings anyway. 

He was fucked. Just as he had been before he met Ian. Only now Ian knew it too, knew the real him and didn't like what he saw. 

Funny thing was, Mickey didn't like it either.

**

It took nearly two weeks after that party for Mickey to get up the courage to find Ian again. He fought himself to do it sooner and to wait until more time had passed but after not seeing him around like he used to, Mickey couldn't wait anymore.

During that week, Mickey did his best to sort himself out. He didn't know how to not be an asshole, but he knew he wanted Ian. He just didn't know how to let himself get what he wanted. He didn't know how to be anything more than a quick fuck. 

Was he gay? Yes. Did he like it? Fuck no. But it was clear that Ian was sick of his shit and if he wanted to keep whatever they had together, he needed to put some effort into it. Into not being a typical Milkovich. 

Only he didn't even know how to start. 

Right out of the gate he fucked up. He was drunk, or well on the way to it. He drank what he could before Terry caught him, took a punch in the face before he left, giving him a nice looking black eye. 

Mickey passed by Ian's store, hoping to see him. He was supposed to work but wasn't there. That old, child groping fuck was behind the counter. It didn't even make him feel bad to take another six pack of beer without paying for it. 

It was only when he was across town that he realized it was nearing lunch on a Thursday, Ian was at school. It was a bad idea, which he seemed to be full of lately, but he went to the school, six pack and all. 

Only four beers were left when he arrived. The entire school seemed to be outside eating. Spread out on shitty picnic tables, smoking rather than eating. At least this way he didn't have to act sober and worm his way around school in search of one ginger. 

Ian was easy enough to find, talking with some guy under the bleachers. Pulling out all the stops that would guarantee the guy dropped to his knees sooner rather than later. Smiling at every bad joke, showing off his body in a tight fitting shirt and those ROTC pants that seemed to make his legs go on forever. 

That jealousy was back and if he realized it, he was sure Ian would too. Only Ian would point it out again when he would try and ignore it. 

Mickey casually moved under the bleachers, doing his best not to sway as that last beer seemed to affect his balance. He locked eyes with the guy more than once, but Ian's back was to him, keeping him hidden for the moment. 

He did his best to try and overhear what they'd been talking about but that guy looked his way one too many times and caught Ian's attention. He turned, eyes curious until he saw him, then darkened in that irritated way. 

"I'll catch you later." Ian mumbled to him before he turned to Mickey. "What are you doing here?"

Mickey nearly folded under the power of that stare, but held on. "Ain't seen you. Thought I'd come find you."

Surprise flashed across Ian's face briefly before it set in that hard line again. "Why are you looking for me?"

Mickey bit the inside of his cheek. Damn him, Ian would make him say it. 

"No reason," Mickey lied because there was no way he could just admit he missed him. He wiggled the beer. "Want one?"

Ian hesitated for a moment before he shrugged and Mickey held one out for him. He let their fingers touch for a moment before he released it and grabbed his own. 

"Whatcha been doin?"

Ian opened the beer and drank half before he sat down. "Work, school. Same shit."

"Ass too, huh?" Mickey said, regretting it instantly. He saw Ian's grin before he looked away. "You work fast."

"What, and you don't?" Ian accused hotly. "Try and lie to my face."

"Trust me, I only let one guy fuck me and he's your stupid ass." Mickey flicked the bottle cap at him. "You jump ass to ass without a glance."

Ian stood up, getting into his face. "How many girls you fuck since we been fuckin, hmm? In case you forgot, that shit counts too."

Now it was his turn to be surprised. "That shit doesn't count and you fuckin know it. I hate it, in case you thought otherwise. I'd just rather fuck them then get a bullet to the brain."

At that, Ian backed off, taking a deep breath. "And no, I don't work fast. That was the first guy that came up to me."

Mickey lifted his eyebrows, his version of 'try that again.' 

"Okay, not the first one but the only one I've talked to." Ian corrected. "And I wouldn't have to if you'd stop being a prick."

Lord, Ian calling him out on his bullshit was also hot. Fuck.

"What did you expect?" Mickey tossed the empty beer bottle and moved closer. "You think you'd dick me down good and make me your boyfriend?"

By Ian's look, Mickey knew that's what Ian wanted. Because that's what HE wanted. 

"Someone finds out about me, I'm dead. Terry and his friends will fuckin beat me to death. I can't just come out and be what you want."

"I didn't ask you to come out." Ian challenged, his voice deeper. "I didn't ask you to be with me. Or tell the entire world what we do. But you don't have to be an asshole when it's just us."

Just us. Fuck fuck. 

"I know you like what we do. I can tell. I can fucking feel it. Even when you are an asshole." Ian took the last step, putting them face to face. "But there is no reason for you call me a fag, or be an asshole."

Mickey's eyes moved to Ian's mouth, lingering a little too long.

"You don't want to hold hands or kiss or fuck with all our clothes off, fine." Ian grabbed him by the front of his shirt. "But don't fucking lie and tell me you don't want me."

Chills flooded his body. Maybe from Ian's words, maybe their closeness, or his assertiveness...but he was hard. 

"Fine," Mickey let out a breath that coasted across Ian's lips. "I want it. I want you."

Ian smiled. 

"But I can't just say that, so I'm an asshole." Mickey wanted to reach out and touch him. "What am I supposed to do?"

"You don't have to tell me that shit, I already knew. Just be who you want to be when you're with me." Ian leaned down a little until their heads touched. 

"I can't promise anything." Mickey whispered and gave a look around, only to realize they were alone. "But maybe you can ditch the rest of today and we can give it a try."

Fuck, his entire face felt hot. Not blushing, that was for girls. But embarrassed. He never sounded so soft before. He never offered himself like that. 

"I can't leave now, I have training after." Ian backed up a little and noticed Mickey swaying. "And you're drunk."

"Yeah, so?" Mickey huffed. 

"So, I'm sick of fucking you when you're drunk." Ian took another step back. "Maybe if you sober up before training is over."

"Never had a problem with it before." Mickey countered back, slowly slipping into that asshole stage again. "We fuck when we drink all the time."

"Yeah and you blame the booze or the weed every time." 

The bell rang for the last time and Mickey knew Ian had to leave. They managed to fix their shit in order to fuck it up again within ten minutes. 

"Fuck."

Ian nodded. "Yeah, fuck is right. I gotta go."

Mickey didn't even have a chance to counter that with anything worth it before Ian was jogging away without a look in return. 

**(Later that night)

Ian hadn't shown up at his house after training. Not like he said he would, Mickey just assumed he would. It was stupid to think so, stupid to hope…and he had been let down hard.

Maybe that's what Ian felt all the time. 

Mickey sobered up, had a shower, and managed to eat something besides Pringles by the time he was hauling ass to Ian's job. 

Ian wasn't working, when he was supposed to be. Mickey ended up talking to Linda, Ian's boss, and she mentioned that Ian had a date. A fucking date. She never saw anyone when Ian left, but Ian told her he had one.

Mickey was seething. Anger dripping from his pores. More so than when it concerned Terry. 

He wanted to do as he always did; drink or smoke Ian away, but that would be useless. He needed to find Ian, to make it better, to show him how much he wanted him. 

The Gallagher house was a bust. So was his house, even Mandy didn't know where he was, which was odd. She always knew. It didn't take him long to figure it out, but when he did, he was furious, even more so than learning Ian had a 'date.'

Ian was with him, his bosses husband, Kash.

The only time Linda came to work was when her husband had something planned with their kids. Which was a lie, because that fucker was only interested in Ian. Put two and two together and it clicked pretty easily. 

Mickey scanned the phone book, searching for that asshole old school style and found him within a few minutes. He stole a car, drove ten minutes up the road and knew something was happening because all the blinds on the windows were down. 

If that guy had been Ian's age, maybe his own age, then fine. Ian can fuck whoever he wants, even when he didn't like it. But that guy was pushing forty, way over the limit to fuck or be fucked by a sixteen year old.

Mickey quietly shut the door as he got out, not wanting to draw too much attention to him being there, then dug around in the trunk until he found the hidden tire iron under the spare tire. 

It felt good in his hands, destruction was something he was familiar with, more so than emotions of any kind, not the ones that were created when Ian came into his life. And if he couldn't give Ian what he wanted, be who he wanted, then he could make sure he was safe from guys like Kash. 

The door was surprisingly unlocked and Mickey quickly made his way inside. The house smelled of some sort of bad spices and goats for some reason. It was strong enough to make him cover his nose with one arm. 

The decor wasn't any better. Items all around to display their religion, like over display to the point of obsession. He couldn't move without knocking into one item or the next, making him shiver, or gag as the smell got stronger.

"Fuck this." Mickey sneered and quickly made his way around the house. 

From down the hall, he could hear the subtle sounds of Ian moaning. Not like one of those deep, sex induced moans he was so good at, it was softer, ones he'd never before. 

Without making a sound, Mickey cracked the door open, getting a gust of sex blown into his face, along with whatever other smell that was, and watched them. 

Ian was on his stomach, shirtless, jeans unbuttoned but hanging low on his hips. His head was between his arms, resting on the bed as Kash decorated Ian's back with slow, wet kisses. Ones that left Ian's back damp from his saliva. 

The low moans came from each kiss Ian received. He'd arch into it a little before he relaxed once more, but let out that soft sound that had Mickey seeing red. 

Is that why Ian was with an older guy? Like way, way older, because of shit like that? 

Mickey didn't know and he didn't care. He knew this was wrong, Kash wanting Ian was wrong and he wouldn't stand by and watch it happen. Or let it go on longer than tonight. 

The door pushed open quickly, powered by his boot, and slapped hard against the back wall. Kash jumped as he turned around, probably expecting his wife. Ian just turned his head to the side, as if he wasn't worried like he should be. 

Green eyes nearly popped out of his head from opening so wide. Mickey held Ian's eyes long enough for Kash to move, pulling his unbuttoned jeans together and backed up. Ian turned over and slid to the edge of the bed. 

"Didn't know you were a kid fucker." Mickey barked, turning his attention away from Ian. 

Kash couldn't even form a word, his mouth opened and closed, trying and failing. Then he'd motion to Ian, as if he was going to jump in and offer a solution that would save him a beat down. 

Ian didn't speak, or look at Kash. Instead he looked at Mickey. 

"Why are you here?"

Mickey looked at him. "You know why."

"No I don't."

"You don't wanna fuck with me any more, fine. But you deserve better." Mickey pointed at Kash with his weapon. "Not some old married guy who wants a piece of young ass instead of taking care of his kids."

To that, Kash looked down. Almost like he was ashamed.

"At least he's not afraid to be with me." Ian replied softly. 

"Yeah, well he should be. Wonder what would happen if someone were to tell the wrong people you like fucking kids."

Kash's eyes widened. "Mickey, please."

"Please what, asshole. You afraid to lose your kids and wife or get your ass beat?" Mickey barked, knowing which one bothered him the most. "You're gonna catch a beatin one way or another. Might as well come from me instead of a mob."

"Why are you here?" Ian asked again, louder this time, as if he expected a different answer. 

Tell him.  
Just fucking tell him.  
'I want you'  
'You want me'

"Because you don't need him." Mickey said clearly, making Ian's defensiveness melt away into something warmer. "Leave with me."

"What?" Ian asked, his voice a little too squeaky. 

"Leave with me." Mickey said again and moved to the bed, looking down at him. "Don't stay here, don't do this with him."

He had to give Ian something good enough to make him leave. 

"I know you don't want him." Mickey said with confidence. "Don't do this because of me."

Ian stood, close enough so he was in Mickey's face. "He wants me. Unlike you. He likes to touch me, he likes when I touch him. He doesn't call me a fag or tell me I'm just a warm mouth."

Mickey flinched like that was a literal punch in his gut. 

"Why should I leave with you, hmm? You gonna give me what I want, what I need?"

"He's more closeted than I am!" Mickey shouted, not unaware of how close Ian's mouth was to his. "I bet the sex is shitty anyway."

At that, Ian cracked a smile. 

"That's besides the point Mickey. I need more than just sex cuz I can get it from anyone I want."

Now he wanted to barf.

"I want you for more than just sex. I thought I made that clear." Ian hesitantly reached out and brushed his fingers against his cheek. "I know you want it too."

Kash was completely forgotten. He and Ian were in their own little world, so much that he didn't even mind that Kash knew he was gay now. Junior fag beater of the south side was gay…who'd believe him?

"I already told you what I want." Mickey boldly pushed his nose against Ian's, even when inside he was panicking. "Forget about him and this creepy ass place and shitty sex. We can leave, together."

"For sex?" Ian asked nervously. 

"For whatever you want." Mickey was quick with his answer, he even tilted his head without realizing it. As if he were dying to feel his lips. "We can go to our spot."

Fuck, he hoped this was working. That opening up like that was convincing Ian he wanted this, that he wanted them and that it wasn't all for nothing. 

Ian nodded, giving a little smile. "What about him? He knows now."

Mickey turned his head to look at Kash, nearly cowering in the corner. Ian's nose brushed across his cheek and for a moment, he felt his lips there too, kissing one place on his jaw. 

"What's it gonna be, hmm? Me beating your ass or the neighborhood?" Mickey asked, lifting his eyebrows to show he was serious. 

Kash thought it over for a moment, but sighed in defeat. "Do you need the crowbar?"

Mickey grinned and handed it off to Ian. "Nope, that would be unfair."

"And you won't tell anyone?"

"Not if you take it like a man." Mickey felt Ian kiss his jaw again before he stepped away, acting like it didn't happen. "Then we are good as long as this shit doesn't happen again. If it does, you get the crowbar."

Kash stood, moving forward a little. "How do I explain it?"

"Fuck if I know." Mickey scoffed. "Tell people you got mugged. It'll be easier than the truth."

Kash nodded, closing his eyes.

"Mick, is this necessary?" Ian asked before anything happened. 

"Yeah, it really fuckin is. He knows better." Mickey gave Ian a wink before he balled up his fist and stepped up to him. "Maybe after this it won't happen again. With anyone."

It lasted a few minutes. A few knuckle busting minutes. Kash took it like a man, and Mickey didn't even do his worst. Not what the guy deserved, but it was done with. 

Ian left with him, holding a crowbar and wearing one of the happiest smiles he'd ever seen.

**

(Later that night)

"Do not touch me." Mickey said sternly, eyeing how close Ian was to him and that cocky smile. "You smell like whatever the fuck his house smells like."

Ian lifted his arm and inhaled deeply before he grimaced. "Yeah, it does smell pretty bad."

"Shower is that way." Mickey pointed to the bathroom. "We can see if your giant ass fits in my clothes."

Ian moved closer despite Mickey's disgusted face. "And if I don't?"

The tone suggested only one thing and Mickey's body heated within seconds. Eager, willing, ready. But Ian didn't make the next move, probably waiting for him to. 

"Then we either stuff you into those nasty smelling clothes or you walk home naked for new ones." Mickey couldn't help but smile when Ian did. "I'm not touching you smelling like that."

"After then." Ian slid his hands around Mickey's sides, pulling him closer. "How long is the house empty for?"

"Few days, maybe. Uncle Ronnie had a run lined up, needed Terry's help. But that doesn't mean we can fuck all over the place."

"Of course not, I was thinking just the bed for once." 

The bed didn't look inviting like you might assume. It was an old mattress on rails with messy, faded sheets hugging three of four corners, the other refused to stay put. Add a few thin pillows and that's what they had to look forward to. 

But in that moment, Ian's heated words somehow made it seem so much better. Cozy and warm and the perfect place to let go and feel what he needed to feel. 

Mickey made the move Ian had been waiting for, just a simple lift onto his toes brought their heads together. "Just get him off you. Then we see what happens after."

Ian backed up to the bathroom, never taking those heated green eyes off him until the door was between them. Mickey felt turned out already and all they did was talk. 

"Fuck."

Mickey sighed and left the room to lock up the house. Terry was gone, Mandy was staying at some guys house and the entire place was empty for once. He made sure to lock every lock on the front door, made sure the windows were locked. 

It felt safe enough, almost. He shut and locked his own door as well, then moved his dresser in front of it, then the couch, making sure Terry couldn't just shoot the lock off like last time. 

Moments later Ian came out, dripping wet with a towel hanging low around his hips. Mickey tried to force his eyes away, to look anywhere but at Ian, only it was useless. His eyes roamed every available inch of skin from his broad shoulders to his long legs and everything in between. 

"Mickey?" Ian asked, stepping forward. 

He blinked half a dozen times and yet he still couldn't look away. There was a large drop of water slowly sliding down the middle of Ian's chest and he wanted nothing more than to chase it with his tongue, along with the rest of him.

"What?" Mickey answered after a minute.

"Something wrong?"

"No, why?" Mickey asked, feeling as if he was having one of those out of body experiences.

"The couch and dresser are in front of the door and you looked a little spooked." 

It took a moment too long, but after that drop of water dissolved into Ian's towel, he was able to meet his eyes for a minute.

"It'll take him a second to get past them both." Mickey pointed to the cluttered door. "Might give you, or us a chance to jump out the window before we die."

"Good thinking but if you're really that worried I can get dressed and leave." Ian made a move for his smelly clothes in the bathroom. "We don't have to do this."

"Stay." Mickey said quickly, but Ian didn't turn around or stop trying to get dressed. "Ian."

"Mick really," Ian turned, pants ready to be slipped on. "It's fine."

"Damn it." Mickey stomped over, ripped Ian's jeans out of his hand and tossed them against the door. "Just stay. It's fine."

"You're sure?" 

"Better here than where someone can see us." Mickey swallowed the panic down enough to keep talking. "It's just a precaution."

Ian smiled a little. "Find me any clothes?"

"That would be fucking pointless cuz then you'd have to take 'em back off." Mickey barked, making Ian's smile turn into a full blown grin. "Too much work and I'm not up for it."

When Ian moved, it was all the way over to him. He stopped when their eyes met, making him realize just how tall Ian had gotten over the summer. 

"Well, you smell better." Mickey grumbled in a weak attempt to lighten the already lustful mood. 

"Now I smell like you." Ian said, smiling.

Ian did smell like him. Both his shampoo and body wash and for some reason it made his stomach swirl wildly. Ian being this close, face to face was normally enough to make him back off, or spew some derogatory term or another. 

Before he had to force the words out of what was next, Ian decided to make that move for him. Large hands moved down to the bottom of his shirt, gripped it and slowly started pulling it up. 

"This okay?" Ian asked, his voice soft. 

Mickey nodded because he didn't trust his voice. Ian pulled the shirt all the way up, then he ducked his head for it to slide off and suddenly Ian's nose was against his. His lips looking soft and inviting. 

"What are you looking at?" Mickey barked, hating himself instantly. 

Good thing Ian didn't seem put off. He was probably used to it. 

"You." Ian said and popped the button on Mickey's jeans without looking. "Clothes off, remember?"

"Yeah." Mickey groaned when the zipper came down and just the tips of Ian's fingers brushed against his cock. "Fuck."

As his pants dropped, so did Ian's eyes, making him itch from being examined so closely. His gaze was like fire, searching every inch of him. Looking for every flaw. 

With his jeans kicked to the side with his shoes, Ian had nothing to do but remove his boxers, which made him hesitate, meeting his eyes instead. 

"Turn around." 

That was not what he expected just yet, not with the way Ian was looking at him. But he turned slowly, giving Ian access to the back of him. Like this, without so much eye contact, he could breathe again. 

"Now what?" Mickey licked his lips, fighting the urge to peek over his shoulder. 

"Something a little different then us just going at it." Ian stepped up until he was talking into the back of Mickey's neck. "I want to touch you."

Mickey squeezed his eyes closed. "How?"

Ian's answer came in the version of a kiss right at the back of his neck. Goosebumps were instant, flushing down his entire body. Only to be repeated over and over again. Soft, but eager kisses were placed from one side of his neck to the other, dragging his tongue against his skin each time.

"Something like that." Ian slid his hands over Mickey's sides. "Maybe more."

God, it felt good. Mickey never wanted it to end, he wanted more. 

"More like what?" Was all he could say, even going as far as tilting his neck for more. 

"I'll show you, if you let me."

"Does it look like I'm stopping you?" Mickey asked, looking back to see Ian's smile. "Just do it before I get old here."

"If you insist." Ian said then bit his ear, making him give an involuntary groan. 

Ian worked his ear expertly, biting it, kissing it, sucking on his ear lobe and his hands slid around to the front of his body. Spanned wide to cover as much as he could, he slid one up over his chest and the other down to his hips. 

"There is so much I want to do to you." Ian groaned, pushing his hips forward to grind into his ass. "Just work with me. Let me show you how good I can make you feel."

Mickey swallowed another groan, his hands balled into fists at his sides. "What do I do then?"

"Lead me." The hand that was on Mickey's hip moved to grab Mickey's hand and set it on top of his. "Put me where you need it."

The only place he needed it was down. So he pushed Ian's hand down, making him moan as it slid across his stomach, then his hips until their hands covered the bulge in his boxers. 

"I need it there." Mickey said stubbornly, like Ian didn't know. 

"Yeah you do." Ian chuckled and his other hand moved to one nipple, rubbing it with his finger. "But here is good too."

His entire body spasmed, his breath caught in his lungs until he could no longer keep it in and exhaled a deep, needy, embarrassing moan. 

"Fuck."

Ian moved to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment as he started the kissing again. This time he was moaning as well, eager, leaving a trail of messy kisses all over him. 

"Touch me." Mickey moaned, pushing Ian's hand against him again, only harder this time. "You gonna get on me?"

"Not yet, I have more to do." Ian said as he kissed down Mickey's back, keeping him from turning or moving away. "I want to eat you."

His eyes popped open. "What?!"

Ian chuckled against his lower back. To keep his mind foggy, he slipped his hand into his boxers and started to stroke him. "I want to eat you."

"Gross." Mickey shook his head, not realizing he was pushing into Ian's grip. "Pass. Just fuck me."

"No," Ian snapped, biting his ass through his boxers, making Mickey hiss. "Just trust me, you'll like it."

For a moment he allowed it. Letting Ian peel down his boxers to bite and across his ass. The only thing that kept him from turning is Ian's grip on his cock, stroking just perfectly. 

And maybe those bites against his ass didn't feel as weird as he thought they might.

But when Ian's other hand split his cheeks apart, he moved forward out of his reach until he could turn around. Ian looked a little sad instead of irritated. Like he really wanted him to allow him to do it. 

"Just stand up." Mickey motioned him up until Ian stood in front of him again. "Gonna have to work up to that."

Ian understood instantly. "Okay."

"One step at a damn time." Mickey was the one who took a step forward this time, bringing him eye to eye with Ian's chest. "Just work with me, yeah?"

Ian nodded eagerly. 

"Fuck it." Mickey shook his head a little as he leaned forward, inches from Ian's chest, but stopped. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Don't think about it." Ian wrapped his hands around Mickey's waist, moving him closer. "Just do what you want."

And he did. With his eyes closed, Mickey pressed his lips to the center of Ian's chest in a feather light kiss. Ian gasped sharply, but didn't speak, or move. So he did it again, then again. 

Each kiss giving him more confidence for another until he was halfway across Ian's chest, tasting fresh water on him, feeling his lean muscles, hearing him moan and gasp. 

"Mick." Ian moaned, in awe as his head tilted back. 

"Shut up." Mickey said, no heat in his voice.

Without thinking, he extended his tongue until it brushed against Ian's hard nipple, enciting a surprised groan that had the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. 

"Oh, fuck." Ian put his hand in Mickey's hair, holding him to it. "More, do it again."

Mickey did it again, circling it, then flicking it quickly, trying to remember every single porno he watched. Who knew it would come in handy like this?

"That feels so good."

Mickey smiled shyly. "It's supposed to, ain't it?"

"Mm hmm," Ian mumbled. 

Just as before, he kissed across Ian's chest to get to the other one. Giving it the same treatment, making Ian moan again in that breathless way. Filling that void inside him somehow. 

"I want you." Ian moaned, pulling a little on Mickey's hair until he could see his eyes, inches from his mouth. "Mick."

The need to kiss was there. Not just because he wanted to find out what all fuss was about, even when that was part of it, but because it felt right. It felt like he was meant to kiss Ian at that moment, while he was worked up and breathless.

But he couldn't help thinking maybe he was bad at it. Maybe Ian wouldn't want to kiss when he realized how bad he sucked. 

Of course he could be wrong. Especially when Ian bent down just a little again until their noses slid along each other's. Ian was going for it. He could feel it, he could see it and it was confirmed when Ian cupped his face, holding it like it was precious and he had that look in his eyes. 

When Ian licked his lips, he had to stop it. "Don't." His voice was barely audible, sounding like a whisper of a whisper. 

"Just once?" Ian begged, tracing his lips with his thumbs. 

He leaned in again and Mickey found himself swaying forward, nearly kissing Ian before he got ahold of himself. "Just don't."

Ian sighed deeply, but nodded and leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth instead. Then his jaw, then up to his ear. Mickey held onto Ian's side's when it became too much, when he was shifting on his feet. 

"I'm so hard." Ian whined, flexing his hips until their cocks brushed together.

"Fuck," Mickey moaned deeply, head tilted to the side as Ian buried his face in it. "I know, I feel it."

"Fuck, I can't wait to feel you Mick." Ian whined again, sliding one hand down and back to grip his ass. "You're so fucking tight."

Mickey's face flamed hotter than ever. Ian had never said those things before, ever. Because he didn't allow that kind of thing. It was only about getting off quickly, not about enjoying it. 

This was not like that. And he fucking loved it. It made his ass ache, his cock pulse so hard pre-come dripped between them.

"Then get on me." Mickey said again, his voice strained. 

"Not yet, let it build." Ian moved to the other side of his neck, groaning into it. "Gonna make you want it so fucking bad you beg for it."

Mickey shoved at him. "I don't beg."

With a smile, Ian moved back into position. Only this time he let his hand drop and gripped them together, squeezing hard before he began stroking. 

"I'm begging you. Just wait a little while. Enjoy it Mickey, just once."

When he didn't shove him again, Ian pulled back to show him a killer smile, then kissed down his body. Down his chest, lathering his nipples in attention until he was the one panting. Then down further, dropping to his knees comfortably.

Mickey let himself say what he wanted, sounding needy, but unsure. "I want your mouth."

Ian gasped. "Please. Fuck." He kissed at his hips, stroking him just before he pulled back and let his mouth drop open. 

"Goddamn." Mickey groaned as he guided himself into Ian's mouth. 

Green eyes never looked away this time. Ian didn't close them like he did some times, he didn't look down at his cock. He kept his eyes up, looking at him. Seeing deep into his body, into his soul. 

"This goddamned mouth." Mickey groaned, praising roughly, knowing Ian watched him, waiting for it. "Never had my dick sucked so good."

Moaning his thanks, Ian moved faster, caressing him with his tongue. 

"Fuck, you're gonna make me come." Mickey warned pathetically, but instead of pulling Ian away, he traced pink lips.

Ian pulled off, panting, his face flushed. Before he could move, he turned his head and captured Mickey's thumb in his mouth, sucking on it like he did his cock. 

Mickey gave him a smile, then slipped his finger out. "How we doin this?"

Standing, Ian wiped his mouth, then turned to the nightstand and searched for the bottle of lube he knew was there. "How we always do it, right?"

Mickey bit his lip. 

"Right?" Ian asked again when Mickey didn't reply. 

"Yeah, the usual way."

They had somewhat of an understanding why there had been hesitation. Mickey knew he couldn't do it any other way besides Ian being behind him, and he also knew that Ian wanted it face to face.

"Good, come here." Ian extended his hand as he stepped to the bed. 

Mickey took it, rolling his eyes for Ian to see it. He did, and pulled him so hard they fell back against the bed, with him halfway sprawled on top of Ian.

Eye contact was instant. Mickey's knew his eyes were wide, but so were Ian's. Like he was shocked it happened, but grateful, but worried about what he would do about it.

"Unless I'm fuckin you, get up." Mickey grabbed his hand and pulled him up, then proceeded to get on his knees with his back towards Ian. 

"I love when you do that." Ian admitted with a groan and climbed up the bed. 

"Do what?" Mickey barked, looking back to see Ian's head tilted in that special way, admiring him. 

Without answering right away, Ian leaned down and licked up his spine. "When you show it to me like that."

As a hot blush spread across his face, Mickey glanced away from Ian and tried not to arch into his touch. "Not showin nothin. Just giving you access."

"Full access." Ian aligned himself with Mickey's body so he could reach between his shoulder blades, softly biting across them. "It gets me so fucking high."

Unlike every other time, he didn't bark at Ian for the words, or the extra touching. He gave into it just a little, letting himself enjoy it for once. 

When Ian's hands came around to his stomach, Mickey wiggled enough for them to slide down to his cock. He let out a soft 'fuck' when Ian gripped him firmly. 

"Ready?" Ian asked, already flexing his ass to rub against Mickey's. 

"Not yet." Mickey said, a little breathless, slightly embarrassed. "Feels good."

He could almost feel Ian's grin. He damn sure knew it was there because he hardly gave in and told Ian how good it felt to be touched by him. Mostly because he felt stupid for saying it, other times because he didn't know what to say. 

"Good, I'm glad." Ian released Mickey's cock and put a little pressure on his stomach. "Sit up for me."

Sitting up was easy with Ian's help. He was perched on his thighs, sitting on his heels with his hands trying to find something to hold so he didn't fall off. The only place left was the tops of Ian's thighs. He set them down, ignoring how hard they shook and feeling strong under his hands. 

"There we go." Ian said and kissed along Mickey's ear. He reached for the lube and slicked up two fingers. "Wanna open you up like this. The angle is deeper."

Mickey closed his eyes before he freaked out. Ian's other hand moved between their bodies, wiggled between his cheeks and slowly started to rub against him. 

Having Ian in his ear made it better somehow, more intense. They both made the same sounds as one long finger pushed inside, stretching him slowly, unrushed like they were used to. Then another finger, making his thighs shake, making Ian rock against his ass. 

"How's that?" Ian asked, nearly purring. 

"S' good." Mickey surprised himself by pushing his body down, forcing Ian's fingers in deeper. "Better than goin fast."

Ian groaned into his ear. "Yeah it does. Much better goin slow."

Dirty talk of any kind was foreign to him. Ian had tried numerous times to start it up, or to get him to participate, but Mickey wouldn't have any of it. He told Ian to shut up, even when the words had his body pulsing. 

By the third finger, Mickey was overly sensitive. Whimpering when Ian's hand moved too close to his cock, rocking his body down against his fingers, helping Ian finger him. Moaning more than he normally allowed, even if every other word was 'fuck,' it had it's effects on Ian. 

Ian was just as worked up as he was. Moving his body against him, just like his fingers. Moaning and growling into his ear. Telling him how good it felt, how hard he was or how bad he needed it. 

"We gotta get this shit going." Mickey was the first to crack, his voice almost unrecognizable. "I need it."

Ian groaned as he slipped his fingers out, his eyes rolling back a little when Mickey copied that same sound. He grabbed the lube again, coating them both before he tossed it.

"I need it too, so fucking bad." Ian lined himself up, then put his hand on Mickey's hip. "Wanna try like this."

Mickey was practically in Ian's lap, only not at the same time. It gave him plenty of room to move if he wanted, which he never did. He just let Ian guide him, moving him to where he wanted...reasonably of course. 

"Fine, just do it." Mickey snapped, but it came out sounding like he was begging. 

One of Ian's hands moved to Mickey's stomach, low, nearly to his cock. The other was at his hip, squeezing tightly. "Do like you did before, rock down when I push up."

His head jerked to the side, seeing Ian's flushed face. "Why?"

"Because you'll like it." Ian pushed against him a little, then added pressure on the hand across Mickey's stomach, forcing him down. "Trust me. I only want you to like it."

Cursing under his breath, happy Ian couldn't see his face, Mickey rocked himself down a little. Ian let out a surprised gasp and he was a little shocked at how easy it was. How much room he had to move. 

"Fuck, just like that." 

"Yeah?" Mickey asked, surprised, breathing heavily. 

"God yes," Ian tipped his head back when he slid in easily. "Keep going."

The excitement in Ian's voice was enough to make him keep doing it. Rocking down as Ian pushed in, even when he'd already bottomed out. He kept going, moving with him, fucking him back in a way he'd never thought he'd be able to do. 

"Mickey," Ian moaned, leaning back to watch his cock sliding in and out. "It's never felt so good before."

"I know." Mickey groaned, moving his hands off Ian's thighs to put on his own, feeling when he moved. "Deeper this way."

Sweat coated their bodies, making it a challenge to hold on without slipping. Mickey kept wiping his face, just as Ian put his sweaty face between his shoulder blades, moaning wildly. 

A particularly hard thrust had him jolting forward, bracing his hands on the bed. Only Ian didn't stop to correct their position. He just gripped his hips and railed into him hard and fast. 

"Ian!" Mickey moaned without meaning to, bending until his face was against the sheets. "Harder."

Did he just say that? Willingly? What the actual fuck?

"Oh fuck." Ian replied breathlessly, gripped him tighter and gave it to him good and hard. "You take it so good Mick."

The praise washed down his body like a tidal wave. Making his ass clench, his hands ball up the sheets, making him bite the pillow so he didn't say something stupid. Or something mean. 

"I want to see you." Ian said, pushing his chin behind Mickey's ear. 

Mickey moved up a little so he wasn't face first in the bed, then turned his head until his face was against Ian's. Until they could see each other. 

"Thank you." Ian breathed slowly, giving his jaw a few kisses. Something soft despite the harsh pace. "You look so good."

Mickey smirked, letting Ian see it. "You don't look so bad, I guess." It was lame, but the best he could do.

It was enough to have Ian's smile return. 

The harsh thrusts were nothing compared to how it felt to be that close again. To have Ian's mouth less than an inch from his mouth, to see how soft his lips looked. He wanted to kiss him.

"Mickey…" Ian said against his jaw, eyes on his mouth as he slowed his pace, barely moving into him. 

It would be against everything he knew, it went against who he was as a person, but he was giving in. Without that voice screaming in his head, Mickey leaned just a little more until his lips lightly pressed against Ian's. 

Barely a kiss, if you asked him. But as soon as Ian's eyes opened, they were blown wide. 

Ian moved so fast he couldn't turn away. One hand was now on his jaw, pulling him in for another kiss. This one was more. This one had a little force to it, passion, if he was gay enough to say so and Ian let out the deepest moan against his mouth. 

They parted and Mickey licked his lips, tasting him, wanting more but not willing to admit it. "Wasn't that bad."

Ian took a deep breath. "That was everything."

He was so soft. Always so fucking soft. Mickey liked soft on Ian, now that he let himself taste it a little, he wanted more. 

"Move." Mickey said and pushed away, making Ian slip out. His face fell instantly. 

"I'm sorry." Ian said quickly. 

Before Ian could finish his entire apology, or before he could talk himself out of it, Mickey turned over, laying on his back. Feeling exposed, feeling stupid, but that instantly melted away when Ian stoped yammering and stared at him with an open mouth. 

"Holy shit."

Mickey blushed hot enough to burn the tips of his ears. "You just gonna stand there? Or do I gotta get myself off?"

"Are you serious?" Ian asked, bewildered as he moved on his knees. 

"Does it look like I'm fucking playin?" Mickey barked and held his hands out wide. "Once in a lifetime offer Gallagher. Yes or no?"

If Ian said no, that would be the end of all things. Mickey was used to a certain kind of rejection, but this...it would be too much. 

"Fuck yes." Ian surged forward, pushing between Mickey's thighs until their cocks rubbed together.

Mickey's back arched in an embarrassing way, but Ian seemed to love it as his hands found their way to his lower back, pulling him against him. 

"Fuck." Mickey moaned, his legs nearly lifting to wrap around Ian. "Hurry up, get on with it."

That seemed to spur Ian on. He sat back, looking insanely large that way and jerked himself a few times before moving and into place. 

"Shiitt." Mickey hissed as Ian pushed all the way back inside.

It was deeper, making his entire body slide up the bed. Only Ian's body kept him from moving too far away, that and those long legs braced against the sheets. 

"I'm not gonna last like this." Ian moaned into Mickey's neck, sucking and kissing in between words. "God, it feels totally different."

It was harder to move this way, but he did what he could. Pushing down each time Ian slid back in, getting in deeper, moving faster, making him pant and sweat. 

"Fuck," Mickey gripped Ian's side's, digging his nails in, pulling him closer. "That's it, fuck."

The words just blurted from his mouth, sounding nothing like him, nothing like he'd say, yet he had. 

"Oh God." Ian shut his eyes, feeling Mickey squeeze him tightly. "Keep talking, please. Don't stop."

When Ian's hands moved to his thighs and helped them lock around his hips, Mickey didn't fight it. He helped, tightening them, bringing them closer, forcing Ian deeper. 

"Talk to me Mick." Ian begged, moving out of his neck to watch his face, running one hand into dark hair. "I'm so fucking close, please."

Talk? How? Like he had been? Fuck, why did it have to be so damn hard?

"M' close too." Mickey groaned, feeling his cock push against Ian's stomach repeatedly as he moved. "Need it harder."

Ian bent his knees, angling his cock a certain way, a way that had Mickey nearly jumping off the bed. 

"Fuck, right there." Mickey gasped, his eyes looking down to see his cock leaking. Pushed to the edge. "That's the spot."

"Mick, Mick…" Ian whimpered, trying to hold on. "Gotta come with me."

"Not yet!" Mickey barked, tightening his legs, forcing Ian to struggle for his next thrust. "Fuck me Ian, make me come."

The words came faster, they came dirtier. Unashamed, unabashed. Just honest, truthful shit he hadn't said before and now couldn't shut it off.

Ian rose up, hovering over Mickey's body. Gaining the leverage he needed to go harder. "Please…"

One hand moved to Ian's chest, feeling his heart pound like crazy, the other went to his cock, jerking as fast as he could. "I'm gonna come, fuck."

"Me too!" Ian moved so hard the bed slammed against the wall. "Fuck, oh fuck."

Mickey didn't have time to tell Ian to pull out. It happened too fast. Ian came, green eyes closing as he slammed in again and again, hitting that spot, making him come as well.

"God!!" Mickey shut his eyes as well, thankful Ian kept moving, working him through all of it until his body slumped against the bed. 

Ian looked down, panting as he moved to his elbows, closer to Mickey. "Did that just happen?"

Mickey took a deep breath, glancing down to see that he was indeed on his back with Ian on top of him. He could feel Ian's come inside of him, he could feel his between them, hot and sticky. 

"Yeah, that just fucking happened." Mickey let out a shaky breath. "Fuck."

"Fuck is right." Ian's arms framed Mickey's head, putting them nose to nose. "Are you going to hit me if I kiss you?"

Just Ian asking made him smile, which had Ian's eyebrows narrowing in concern. "Why don't you try and find out?"

Mickey moved his hand to Ian's side, not worried about how sticky it was because Ian was leaning down again. Slowly this time. Like he wasn't sure if he should expect a hit or not after. 

He didn't move. Not even when their lips touched. He didn't kiss him back, or moan like Ian did. That's when Ian pulled back, looking at him. 

"Well?" Ian asked.

"That was hardly a kiss." Mickey said, making him frown before his hand moved to Ian's neck and brought him down for another one. "That's better."

Ian groaned. "Much better."

The next kiss was just what it was supposed to be. They both groaned into it, their lips parting softly while their tongues eagerly explored. Mickey could feel his body warming again, hardening, just from the soft sweep of his tongue. 

He didn't notice that it had the same effect on Ian until he was slowly pushing into him. Now twice as hard as he had been, thrusting slowly, shallowly until they broke the kiss and moaned together. 

"Again." Mickey said and put his hand to Ian's lower back, pushing. "Come on, I don't have all day."

Ian grinned, then kissed him again, and again until Mickey couldn't breathe fast enough to be a smartass. "It'll take as long as it takes."

Mickey moaned, lifting his hips. "Yeah, it will."

From day one, Ian had been worming his way into Mickey's heart. Getting deep under his skin so he couldn't shake him no matter what. And now didn't want to. 

Now Ian was there and all Mickey wanted to do was get him even closer.


End file.
